


accidents don't just happen accidentally

by justkeeponwriting



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (sorry), Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, M/M, No Smut, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-07 00:45:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4243041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justkeeponwriting/pseuds/justkeeponwriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I don’t want to be “that guy” but I may have accidentally sent a dick pic to your mom."</p><p>Dean nearly drops his phone in shock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	accidents don't just happen accidentally

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this absolute gem from [Texts From Last Night](https://twitter.com/TFLN/status/608333763458834432): "(902): I don’t want to be “that guy” but I may have accidentally sent a dick pic to your mom." Not beta read, and no smut, I'm sorry to say.

Dean’s sitting in the back of the auditorium, sweating like a pig despite continuously fanning his face with his notebook, when Cas sends him a text. Summer started early this year, and that doesn’t bode well for all the students still stuck on their last courses before summer break; you can almost see the heat steaming off the students crammed in the auditorium, and everyone has trouble concentrating on professor Henriksen’s voice. Not that the professor is better off – he looks like he’s melting under his dark suit, and is trying to will the clock go faster so that they can all get out of the scorching heat of the room and go outside to the scorching heat of the sun.

Normally, Dean wouldn’t check his phone in the middle of class, but he figures that no one’s paying attention to him, because everyone’s busy trying to stay awake and not melt in the heat. Besides, his…fuck-buddy, roommate, friend, whatever Cas is, rarely texts him during class unless it’s important. Dean opens his phone, ready to divert his mind from the heat to whatever Cas has to say. But the text he gets doesn’t help his body cool down at all. In fact, the opposite happens: his heart starts to beat like rabbit’s going into cardiac arrest.

**_Grumpyface_ :** _I don’t want to be “that guy” but I may have accidentally sent a dick pic to your mom_

Dean nearly drops his phone in shock. Charlie, sitting on his left, looks up in confusion, but Dean awkwardly smiles at her and she accepts that, slumping back to doze off on the desk.

 **_Me:_ ** _HOW thE HEll did u manage that????_

 **_Me:_ ** _Why were you sending me dick pics anyway i'll be home in an hour_

 **_Grumpyface:_ ** _I got bored_

 **_Me:_ ** _NOT GOOD ENOUGH_

**_Grumpyface_** _**:** I’m sorry I missed you_

**_Grumpyface_** _**:** you nerd_

Dean’s face lights up with hope, and for a moment, he’s almost giddy. He smiles at his phone, very aware that he must look like an idiot, but he rarely has control over his facial expressions when he thinks about Cas.

“Cas?” Charlie mumbles from his left, confirming that Dean’s shining brighter like the sun today.

“Shut it,” Dean mumbles, and Charlie drops her head back to her desk again, not having enough energy to needle on Dean about his….crush, relationship, friendship, whichever it is.

The thing is, Dean is pretty sure he likes Cas way more than Cas likes him. Sometimes, Cas gets sappy like this, and that sparks a tiny glimmer of hope inside of Dean. Maybe Cas would like for them to be something more than just friends who fuck, like Dean painfully wants to. Maybe Cas would like to call their movie nights and coffee shop trips dates, like Dean desperately wants to. But then, like always, Cas does something like _text his mom a dick pic_ , and every spark of hope that Dean hoards inside seems to fade.

Dean sighs. Discreetly, he texts Cas a short answer: _send me the pic and the text, I need to see the damage_

**_Grumpyface_** _**:** you sure?_

**_Me_** _**:** Just do it._

When Dean’s phone buzzes, he’s not really sure does he want to open the text. He very much doesn’t want to deal with the fact that Cas _sent his mother_ a dick pic, which would on its own be humiliating and awkward. The awful – and even more humiliating – part is that Dean knows Cas’s writing style. Cas has sent him dick pics before, and vice versa; sexting is, in fact, how they even got “together,” if you can call it that, in the first place. Nowadays, their texts usually start without any prelude, just cutting to the chase: “thinking of you” or “so hard for you rn.” Cas is more eloquent of the two, usually giving long descriptions of what exactly he wants to do to Dean: “When you come home, I want you to eat you out before I fuck you against the window, blinds barely closed, so anyone who looks closer can see. Can we do that, Dean?”

Which is precisely why Dean can’t help but think his mom now knows a) about Cas’s existence and 2) that the text was meant for Dean. This can’t possibly get any worse.

He takes a breath, covers his phone so that all other innocent souls won’t see anything they don’t need to, and opens the text. By their standards, it’s not actually that bad. It’s…well, it’s a picture of Cas’s spent dick and torso, with come splatters all over his stomach. The attached text says, “Look what you’ve done to me, Dean. I want you to hurry up and come back to clean me up.” Cas isn’t recognizable, unless you know exactly what he looks like underneath his clothes, and the background only shows Batman bed sheets. Holy shit, did…did Cas get bored of waiting and masturbate on Dean’s bed while he waited for Dean’s class to end? Dean doesn’t know whether to be irritated, turned on or giddy with the knowledge that Cas really misses him, or all three.

Mostly, he’s afraid, because _his mom_ has just seen that picture.

Dean is so screwed, and not in the fun sense.

“Trouble in paradise?” Charlie asks from his left. Dean hastily shuts his phone and slips it into his bag. Even if Charlie is, by all accounts, Dean’s best friend, there are things that Dean just can’t tell her. This crisis is one of them.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean mutters. “I’ve…I’ve gotta go. Family emergency.”

“What?” Charlie looks suddenly more awake.

“No, no, it’s nothing that serious. Just…some personal drama, don’t worry about it. I just need to call my mom.”

“If you’re sure,” Charlie says, though she still looks hesitant. “Dean, you’d tell me if there was something wrong, right? Promise you’ll talk to me?”

“Promise,” Dean says, smiling at her. Charlie is an amazing friend, but there’s a limit to what Dean can and cannot reveal and what Charlie can and cannot help with. He quietly gathers his things and slips out of the auditorium. Professor Henriksen doesn’t even bother glaring at him – rather, the professor seems like he’d like to follow Dean’s example.

The hallway is a little cooler than the auditorium, and Dean allows himself a moment to enjoy the cooler temperature before taking out his phone and with a sigh, preparing to make the most awkward call of his life. Cas has sent him another text apologizing for this mess, and Dean quickly answers that he’s calling his mom. He hesitates for a moment, and decides to go outside, because no way in hell is he going to have a conversation about his sexuality, his not-boyfriend and dick pics with his mom while any of his other teachers could walk by and overhear.

It’s hot outside of the building, and Dean finds a bench by the main entrance in the shadow, but it’s still pretty hot to sit there. He feels his face burning up, not just because of the sun, and before he can chicken out, he selects his mom’s number. She picks up after the second ring.

“Dean!” his mother greets him. “Hi, sweetheart, it’s nice to hear from you.”

“Mom?” Dean cringes at his own voice. He sounds panicked and – for the lack of a better term – like a teenage boy, because his voice goes uncontrollably up and down.

“How are you?” Mary asks, and Dean can’t decipher the tone of her voice. Is she just pretending that she’s fine and fuming on the inside, or just denying what happened?

“Mom, I, uh—”

“Is everything all right?” she asks, and Dean can’t take the shame anymore, so he simply blurts out,

“It’s about the text Cas just sent you.”

“Cas?”

“That’s…that’s his name. He’s uh,” Dean swallows, “my…boyfriend?”

Mary goes silent. Dean can hear the blood pounding in his ears.

“How long have you been together?” she finally asks.

“I, uh, I don’t know.” Dean cringes. He isn’t making this sound very convincing. “Um. For…four months, I guess? We’ve known each other for longer, though. He’s my roommate.”

“So, you’re dating your roommate.”

“You’re not angry?”

“Why would I be angry?” Mary asks. “Dean, as long as you’re happy, I don’t care what gender your boyfriends or girlfriends are.”

“Mom,” Dean says. He’s overwhelmed; he never thought the discussion would go this well. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing, sweetie,” Mary says, “but I’m confused about something. What text are you talking about?”

Dean freezes. “Cas said he accidentally sent you something meant for me?”

“I haven’t gotten any texts today, but then again, you know that my phone has been acting weird lately,” she says. “Why would he even have my number?”

“I gave him that,” Dean weakly says, “as an…emergency contact.”

Mary is quiet for a moment, and Dean has the irrational thought that _this_ is where she’ll start screaming at him. She doesn’t. “You must really like him, don’t you?”

“I—”

“So, when are you two going to visit?”

“What?”

 

* * *

 

The windows of their dorm room are open, and the fan is on, but it’s still uncomfortably hot. Castiel paces in the middle of the room, too distracted to work on his last essay of the semester, and perpetually checks his phone for new messages. There are none; Dean’s not answering to his texts or his calls, and it’s freaking Castiel out.

**_Me_** _**:** I’m sorry let me deal with this_

**_Nerdlord_** _**:** it’s ok I’m calling my mom_

**_Me_** _**:** Dean that’s not necessary, it’s my fault, i’ll apologize to her_

**_Me_** _**:** Dean?_

**_Me_** _**:** Dean i’m so sorry_

**_Me_** _**:** DEAN THE TEXT DIDn’t GO THROUGH_

**_Me_** _**:** Dean please answer me_

**_Me_** _**:** DEAN I’M SORRY_

Frustrated, Castiel throws his phone on his bed and flops down on his back, taking a deep breath. This whole mess is Castiel’s fault, and he can easily understand if Dean doesn’t want to continue their…relationship, agreement, friendship, whatever it is, anymore. Dean’s not out to his family, Castiel knows that, and he’s respected that decision. Scaring Dean into coming out was _never_ his intention, even if Castiel has spent many nights wishing Dean would care enough to be in a real relationship with him, complete with disgustingly cute public displays of affection.

Sometimes he gets glimpses of that: when Dean falls asleep against his chest after a movie night, when Dean laughs at his bedhead in the mornings and combs his hair with nimble fingers, when Dean kisses his forehead when he’s sleepy. Sometimes it feels just like Dean could care, like Dean would be interested in something more than their no-strings-attached agreement.

But, then something like _this_ happens, and Castiel is pretty sure Dean is never going to talk to him again.

Castiel sulks on his bed, occasionally checking his phone and continues to throw it back into the pillows when Dean doesn’t answer. He’s still staring at the ceiling when the dorm room finally opens, and Dean enters.

Castiel sits up on his bed immediately. Dean puts his bag on the ground sheepishly, and flops down on his own bed. Castiel fleetingly feels guilty about not changing the sheets, though he did clean up after his impromptu masturbating and sexting session on Dean’s bed.

Which is why he’s pretty sure Dean is going to break up with him, Castiel grimly reminds himself.

“Well, I’ve got good news and bad news,” Dean says then. “You didn’t send my mom a dick pic.”

Castiel nods. “Yes, I realized that and tried to reach you earlier. That’s good, isn’t it?”

“The bad news is that I came out to my mom and told her you’re my boyfriend.”

Castiel is silent for a moment. “She didn’t take it well, I presume.”

Dean’s head whips up, and he stares at Castiel, confused. “What? No, no, she was cool with that. She, uh, actually, she said she’d known for years. Apparently she saw me when I was fourteen and kissed Aaron in the basement.”

Cas drops his head at that. “I’m sorry for forcing you into this situation. I know you didn’t want to introduce me.”

“What?” Dean blinks. “Cas, the bad news is that she wants to meet you. She invited us for a dinner next Sunday.”

Slowly, Castiel starts to realize that the situation isn’t as hopeless as he made it out to be. He glances at Dean. “How’s that…a bad thing?”

“Well, I, uh…” Dean doesn’t know where to look. “You’re okay with that?”

“Of course I’m okay. I’d love to meet your mom.”

“But you—” Dean doesn’t know how to phrase this. “I thought you’d be mad at me for telling her you’re my…” His voice gets smaller. “Boyfriend.”

“Dean,” Castiel says. His heart starts to race. “Why—do you think I—hold on. Do you want us to be boyfriends?”

“Yes?” Dean says. “I thought you didn’t.”

“I thought _you_ didn’t,” Castiel says. They stare at each other for a second, before the situation dawns on them both. Suddenly, Castiel grins, and Dean starts to smile as well. They laugh a little, and then, they both stand up. Castiel steps forward and nearly crushes Dean as he pulls Dean into a hug.

“Oh, god, we’re idiots.”

“Yeah, we kinda are,” Dean says. He grins against Castiel’s neck. “So, Castiel Novak, will you do me the honor of being my boyfriend?”

“Dork,” Castiel says. He kisses Dean’s cheek. “Of course I will.”

Dean kisses Castiel properly on the lips, happily smiling into the kiss.

“How about we continue where we left off?” Dean asks. “I mean, you did send me a text with a pretty demanding request.”

“Dean,” Castiel says, “I’ll be sure to never send you dirty texts ever again.”

“Shame,” Dean grins. He’s not really unhappy about that, though, because Castiel pushes him down on a bed and proceeds to show just how much better the real thing is compared to a text.


End file.
